


The Fine Art of Sleepwalking

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-14
Updated: 2011-07-14
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: The Head Girl is experiencing some sleep problems, and her partner Head Boy tries desperately to help. Pure fluff in a few chapters, Lily/James. UNFINISHED.





	The Fine Art of Sleepwalking

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

“Potter!” she screeched. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?!” The fiery redhead glared daggers at the tall figure leaning leisurely in the seat next to her.

“Whoa, Lily, I’m hurt!” responded the messy-haired boy. “What happened to being on first name terms?”

She winced. “Sorry, James, you know it’s been a long day… I’m such an idiot sometimes, argh!”

The Head Boy shook his head. “You’re not an idiot, Lils, you’re a brilliant Head Girl. Come on, just because some first-years thought that tossing Dungbombs at Professor Slughorn was a good idea doesn’t mean that you’re an idiot. Now c’mon, focus.”

Lily Evans, resident hothead, nodded dumbly. James couldn’t help but stare in shock.

“Um, Lily, aren’t you going to insult me?”

“There’s no point in insulting my Transfiguration tutor. I’m rubbish at Transfiguration, and you know it.”

He threw his hands up in despair. “No, you’re not rubbish. You just need to focus. One more try.”

She looked around her surroundings in despair. “James, just look. Tell me what you see.”

He didn’t want to.

===

You see, dear reader, James had been assigned to be Lily’s Transfiguration tutor by Professor McGonagall. Normally, most people would keel over and die in shock. After all, Lily Evans and James Potter simply did not mix. In their sixth year, the infamous marshmallow incident happened, and no one quite knew whether Amos Diggory was male or female afterwards. Needless to say – and yet it must be said – Lily gave James a good verbal beating, to the point where he had lain in the infirmary for two straight weeks, bleeding out of his pierced eardrums.

However, the Head Boy and the Head Girl had learned to cooperate on the first day of their seventh year, after a number of pranks – some amusing, others vulgar – had greeted them as they rode the train to Hogwarts. Commendably, James had not teased Lily at key vulnerable moments, something she was eternally grateful for, and the two of them had somehow civilly cleaned up the mess while James explained how he had the perfect alibi and was not the perpetrator. And oddly enough, for once in her life, Lily believed James. The two of them had then chatted like old friends, albeit awkwardly at first, about their summers, before meeting the prefects and finishing some of their Head duties.

===

Anyhow, back to the point – this is why you never buy a Rambling Quill to write down stories, lest the parchment reaches such a length that a kangaroo in Australia could hop to the moon and back while skipping Chocolate Frogs across the Milky Way Galaxy. But this enchanted quill digresses once again.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Look, quill, I wanted you to record this story so that James and Lily’s precious future offspring will be able to read this for bedtime. You’re not helping with your rambling.”

Well I’m sorry I’m not as serious as you are, Sirius! Hahaha, oh how I do love to employ tired old jokes. And plus, my name is Ethelbert, not quill, thank you very much!

“Edelbart, Arklespork, whatever, c’mon, just finish the story, James promised me we could sneak to Hogsmeade tonight and nab some Firewhiskey!”

All right, all right. The name’s Ethelbert, by the way. Did I say that already? It's fine, though, since Ethelbert is a fine name. Yes indeed. Now where was I?

===

Oh right. James did not want to look around the room.

For this particular lesson, James had decided to give Lily a box of paperclips and rubber bands. Her objective was to create an ice-cream statue replica of Dumbledore as a Christmas present to the Headmaster. It was an unspoken tradition for the current Heads to top the present of last year's Heads - and this, by itself, was going to be a difficult task. Last year's present had been a cloak that changed color every day; not only that, it also proudly emblazoned a new random word across the chest. Today's word had been Eggplant, written in brilliant canary yellow over an olive background. Much blinding had happened in the Great Hall during mealtimes today, from the gaudy colors.

“James. I said, look around the room.”

He lifted his face from his hands. “No, Lily, I don’t want-“

She slammed the table. “Shut up, prat, and tell me what you see!”

In a trance, he obeyed. How could he not listen to that fiery, sexy voice and its demands? “Lils, there are three badgers, fourteen cupcakes, thirty-nine bunnies, a bird, a monkey, two elephants, five fluorescent robes, three pixies, fourteen Honeydukes bags of chocolate, a handsome wizard and his lady true.”

She sighed in defeat. “James, I don’t want to hear your rubbish about how handsome you are, this is not the time to be hitting on me. I still haven’t been able to Transfigure anything close to ice cream, let alone a statue of Dumbledore made from said substance!”

James nodded. “All right, maybe we should call it a day. You’re looking tired.” 

And indeed she was. Lily Evans was a mess. She had bags under her eyes, and she had lost the spring in her step. Her skin was paler than usual. James couldn’t help noticing how incredibly beautiful she was, even when she was tired, but also couldn’t help noticing that his heart felt as though it were stabbed with an Erumpet horn. Why was Lily feeling so exhausted, and how could he help? 

Lily took a deep breath. “All right, James, thank you again for giving me a challenge. I’d normally be excited, but I dunno, I’m just so bloody tired…” 

“Lily, go up to the Heads room first. I’ll follow behind after I clean up, all right?” He leaned towards her to give her a hug. 

“James!” her voice rang out sternly. “What was the first rule we made on the train ride here?!” 

He cringed. “Rule number one of being Head students without ripping out each other’s tongues – treat one another civilly, as friends, but never touch one another.” He continued to make mechanical sounds after this most mechanical statement, his hands and feet moving jerkily about in imitation of Muggle robots.

She laughed, a beautiful peal of silver song, though it sounded rather tired. “Yes James. You sound disappointed, but we mustn’t be breaking rules, we’re Heads of Hogwarts now!” 

James couldn’t help but laugh. Seriously, lecturing a Marauder about breaking rules? “Shoo, get on out of here, go get some rest!”

Lily turned around to go up towards her inviting bed. She then whipped back around, an urgent whisper coming out of her mouth. “James? I’m having trouble sleeping these days, that’s why I’m so tired.”

James blinked. Lily having trouble sleeping? She was the most capable student around here, why in the world would she have trouble sleeping? It wasn’t as if she were skiving off of her homework, the way he was prone to doing at 3 in the morning. And Merlin knew that everyone in the castle loved her – hell, even most Slytherins had given her a grudging respect, after she had soundly reprimanded some Hufflepuff troublemakers who were targeting Slytherin first years.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he whispered back, “Lily, go sleep, there’s nothing wrong at all. I’ll handle everything, mkay? Sweet dreams.”

She smiled a small, sad smile. “Yes James, I know you will, you’ve grown up. I hope I’ll dream tonight…” And with that, she took off for the staircase.

James shook his head. Well that compliment sounded abnormal, coming out of her usually insulting - and beautiful - lips. Now what on earth could be going on?


End file.
